An Enquiry Considering Parentage and Self Loving/Loathing

My mother is so goal-oriented. It's ridiculous. She doesn't appreciate the journey, as corny and cliche as it seems, at all. I told her that I decided to minor in philosophy. She responded, incredulously, "you know that won't help you at all, right?" When I told her that I would graduate in eight years instead of seven, she responded, "won't that set you back?" When I tell her of beautiful novels, of the immeasurable glory of art, she can't comprehend any of it. My mother only loves art as long as it entertains her. If what she reads is not titillating, bordering on the obscene, she cannot appreciate it. Subtleties are lost.

My father, a quite different fellow, just does not care. He thinks of nothing. My father is apathy in the extreme. If it holds any lasting value, it matters not to him. Importance is lost.

I think this somehow relates to the empty self. How in modern society, without our absolutes, we are empty. My mother fills this emptiness with success and material objects. She is never happy with the worldly things she has. She always, always wants more. My father fills himself with alcohol. He drinks until he cannot think of those important things which (I conjecture) he does not want to brood over.

I, a significant departure from both, cannot seem to stop thinking. Never. I am incapable of irresponsibility. Of "having fun" with no consequence. When I hear people talk of one-night stands, I cannot grasp why anyone would want to do such a thing. I do not want anything of this world.

Now, because of this, I feel so self-rightgeous. I think I've got it all figured out. How could anyone ever love someone so extremely arrogant?

I hate myself most when I love myself; I love myself most when I hate myself.

This is the the most insightful and truthful song I have heard in a while.

THE TRUTH IS A WHISPER AND ONLY A CHOICE.
Nobody hears above this noise. (Do they even...)
It's always a risk when you try to believe. (I know there's something...)
I know there's so much more than me.

And I got caught in the Ruse of the World
It's just a promise no one ever keeps.
And now it's changing while you sleep,
and no one here can see.

You know all I am (feel this moment in you)
You know all I am (can you teach me to believe in something?)

Sometimes you choke on the smell just to breathe.
I need to question what I need.
Rhythm of silence that beats through your mind.
Still you forget what you deny.

And I got caught in the Ruse of the World
It's just a promise no one ever keeps.
And now it's changing while you sleep,
and no one here can see.

Who's the one you answer to?
Do you listen when he speaks?
Or is everything for you?

And do you find it hard to sleep?
Or is it easy on your own?
And will you ever find some peace
Before you're gone?

I've just seen a face...

Mr. Mellow came over Sunday night. I was im-ing him on facebook, and then he asked me "do you want to continue this conversation in person?" Obviously, I was freaking out. I have never done this. Eighteen years old, and I'm more virginal than most middle schoolers. My wonderful best friend kept encouraging me, making me laugh, so that when he got here, I was at least not hyperventilating.

So he got to my dorm at about eight o'clock. I had not eaten dinner, but I wasn't about to turn down such an opportunity. I was so nervous about what we would do. My hands were clammy, my teeth were chattering, and I experienced an inexplicable sudden chill. What is a girl supposed to do in such a situation?

But the situation unfolded such that my fears were assuaged. We had no problem talking. We talked so well, we talked for twelve hours. Twelve Hours! He didn't leave until eight o'clock in the morning! I was so tired, but so unwilling to ask him to leave. There was never a sense of an awkward silence, although occasionally there was silence. It felt so normal. Except for my momentary freakouts, the moments when I realized what was happening- I was hanging out with this boy one-on-one!

Our conversation consisted of innumerable topics, from him convincing me that I could have any man I choose (something I still don't quite believe), to us describing each other with three adjectives (at which point he stated: "Well, you're average height, I guess, and you are brunette, and I could say you're smart... but I don't want to give you an ego boost, so... I guess I'll just put it out there. You're cute."), and debating how I would escape if he chose to attack me (which obviously involved some playful physical contact). Finally, at eight a.m., at which time both of us were clearly too tired to make much conversation, he left. And I couldn't believe it- I just stayed up until eight a.m. talking with this boy.

So now, I think it's mutually understood that we're interested in each other. But I don't know what to do next. I don't have his number, although he has mine. He wouldn't hang out with me willingly for twelve hours if he wasn't interested, right? He told me I was cute! I hope this turns out all right. Because this is the closest I've ever been.

Iris Victoria and Cadence Aletheia

I hope I have two daughters.

Phoenix

I met someone new.

I'll call him Mr. Mellow, because he looks like Jack Johnson.

Anyways, I met him on when a group of friends and I went to Cracker Barrel, and a friend introduced us. I meant to sort of ignore him, because I know that one of my friends likes him, and I didn't want to intervene. But he kept talking to me! Several times, he notified the waiter when my drink was empty, he offered to hold my box, he asked me to ride back with him (in someone else's car), and then the next morning, he facebook-friended me. It sounds so insignificant here, but it was exciting.

And just now he commented on my facebook status.

That made me so happy. Such a small thing. This may not (and probably will not) turn in to anything, but for right now, it's exciting.

The Truth is a whisper and only a choice.

I just discovered my new freedom.

I hated Nietzsche. He destroyed all logic, burned all the bridges on my path of self-discovery. I found I must make a huge leap of faith, to get anywhere. And I hated it. Nietzsche told me that God is dead. That truth may not exist. That it doesn't exist, in a way, because we can't even know if it exists. I hated this, because I simply cannot live without truth. Without knowing that someday, I will know the truth. Otherwise, I would die (literally and figuratively, in every aspect of the word).

But today, I had an epiphany. I am free. I am free, because God is dead.

I don't have to listen to anyone anymore! I have created my own absolute, or rather, my absolute reached out to me. I don't have to feel guilty for not feeling the same way as other "Christians". I am not a Christian. I have converted. I am an agnostic, who believes in God, because I believe that God reached out to me, God touched me, with music and beauty. I suffer from significant doubt. But I also believe that Jesus is the Son of God, because God showed me this. I believe that God wants me to live like Jesus did.

So, some may call me a Christian. But I am not. Not anymore.


I am free.

I'm okay.

I just spent two hours just talking with the agnostic and the friendly girl (whom he loves). And it was fine. Overall.

There were moments when I saw the way he looks at her, his dangerous clear eyes filled with admiration. And it bothered me.

At times, I thought of how I loved him, and how he loves her, and how he'll never think of me in her presence. And it bothered me.

And every now and then, I felt the awkward tension brewing as they had their "us" moments. The moments so prevalent among the early stages of a teenage relationship. And it bothered me.

But overall, these evanescent thoughts got lost in the midst of an intriguing conversation with two very intelligent and interesting people. And I think I'm okay.